In Remembrance
by AllThingsInsane
Summary: Second in my Adam-verse. Its been exactly one year since Adam Milligan's life was changed forever when his mother was murdered by the sadistic demon, Meg. He goes to Windom to visit her grave site. While there, he looks back on some memories of her.


_Windom, Minnesota _

_February 2, 2007_

Adam Milligan paused, taking a deep shaking breath as the myriad of emotions crossed over his heart, settling deep into the very contours of it as he locked eyes with the simple gravestone. He clenched his teeth firmly against the tennis ball size lump in his throat as he clenched and unclenched his hands that were at his sides. He took a deep, final breath and walked foreword.

He was the only person in the cemetery the cold, misty February morning as he walked, he could hear everything. He could hear the soft crunching sound of the grass and leaves beneath his feet. His mind was playing tricks on him, making him think that he had been walking for hours, when in reality, he had only walked a few paces.

Once he was standing directly over his mother's gravestone, he slowly knelt down until his knees were touching the wet grass in front of it. He sighed deeply as he read the front of the stone: 'Kate Milligan, beloved mother and daughter'. He reached out a hand and touched the part of the stone that read 'mother'. He shook his head, trying to swallow back the bile that had risen in his throat. This was so wrong. This all was so wrong. She never should have died like this. She should have died when he was an adult and when he was grey, not when he was barely even a teenager.

"Oh, Mom..." he whispered. "Why couldn't you have hung on?"

He knew that it was an irrational feeling to have but he was mad. He was mad at her for not fighting harder. He was mad at her for being home that night, for not being at work where she was supposed to be. He had been struggling with the typical feelings of grief for the past twelve months, but anger had been, surprisingly at the very back of his mind. The past twelve months had solely been focused on the mind-numbing pain that he felt.

"Why didn't you fight?" He whispered fiercely, tears running down his face as he stared at her name. "Why couldn't you have hung on for me? What, you didn't think I needed you anymore?" He put a shaking hand over his face and wiped the irksome tears away from his face, but no matter what he did, the tears still came like they were being forcibly pushed out by some unseen force.

His hand reached inside his pocket and he felt his fingers grasp the fluffy, blue teddy bear that he had gotten cheap at some discount store on the way. He stared down at the cute bear with it's smile and little paw raised up in a wave.

"Okay, Mom," he said, taking another, comforting deep breath, "you always said that candy and flowers were always stupid. You used to-" he laughed at the memory. "You used to say that candy would be gone in a second, and flowers would wilt. But you always used to say that stuffed animals would always stay with you. So here's one."

He leaned the bear up against the gravestone.

"You also used to say that your favorite color was blue. How weird is that? Most girls I know like purple, or red or pink...but not you." He trailed off with a short laugh.

He balanced himself on the balls of his feet as he wrapped his arms around his knees. All of the memories that had somehow worked their ways into the deepest recesses of his mind were all coming back to him. The parties-she threw wonderful parties and let Adam pick the theme each year, the Christmases-she would take him to Florida to see his great-grandmother, and they would laugh about the fact that the people in Minnesota were experiencing a white Christmas while they were soaking in the sun.

The smaller things. The things that somehow made all the difference in how the memory of his mother shaped itself into his brain. The smell of her Sarah Jessica Parker perfume at night as he would watch her bustle around her room getting ready for a long night in the ER. The sounds of her moving around in the kitchen making him cream of mushroom soap while he was lying on the sofa, his family's old patchwork quilt drawn over him as he lied there battling some illness that Kate always knew the secret to curing.

The times that he would catch the typical cold and have the nasty soar throat and runny nose. He saw and almost _felt _with vivid clarity, the feel of Kate's warm hands wrapping around him, holding him as he cried as a ten-year-old when his strep throat would leave his throat raw, cracked and just plain _sore. _He remembered the goofy grin she would wear as she would walk into the living room with ice cream sundae's and she would be wearing her Disney Belle slippers as she and Adam would settle themselves on the huge sectional sofa she had, she would bring out their comforters and they would cuddle together watching the action movies that they both loved.

These memories were precious to him. They were something that had buried themselves deep into the very darkest, deepest corners of his mind but were still precious all the same. He attributed it to maybe it was his mind's way of trying to protect itself by burying the memories that would hurt, but now they were all coming back up with renewed furor.

But it was the things that he _couldn't _remember. It was the small things that he was afraid of losing. He felt like he was losing his memory of the other things. He couldn't remember the smell of her shampoo or how it would smell on her hair, he couldn't remember the small things like that. He gritted his teeth in frustration. He wanted his mother to be picture clear in his mind without any smudges or tears. He wanted the picture to be absolutely crystal clear without any tainting and it scared him to think that he was slowly losing that.

He rubbed his hands together, he could see his breath blow into his hands from the cold air. He shivered slightly-he didn't know if it was from nerves or if it was a combination of that and the chilly early Minnesota morning.

"Remember what you said to me once, Mom?" His voice was shaking slightly from the cold. He was determined to keep his emotions in check. He didn't come here to cry, that wouldn't make his mother happy, that would only make her upset that he was upset. "You said that gloves or mittens were useless but if you tuck your hands in your coat sleeves, that would be a guaranteed way to warm them up." He chuckled softly at her logic as he shifted his eyes once again to the gravestone.

It seemed completely illogical that she could be lying down there-cold and alone. When he had gone to her funeral, a large, irrational part of him had wanted to jump in there with her and stay with her for eternity. He remembered all the feelings from her funeral-he remembered, at that time, having no clue about the supernatural world-that would come after. At that time, he remembered the feelings of a deep confusion settle into his mind, wondering who would want to kill her, who would dump her body in a field like she was trash who no one cared about.

What he didn't know then.

He laughed without humor as he thought about the vast ways his life had changed since the night his mother had died, and the morning he came home to find the blood splatters in the kitchen. Before, he had been a regular high school freshman whose only thought was which date he could get to the winter formal his school was having. He went from a kid who thought that monsters were just regular customers of his nightmares to actually battling them in his waking hours.

"What am I going to do, Mom?"

He shivered-this shiver was purely because of the grief that he felt for her and for Dean. It had been a few months since Dean had died in the car accident in Salvation. The car accident that had been caused by the demon that had started it all for the Winchesters twenty-two years previously. Adam found it hard to believe that another relative, another family member had been ripped from him. It seemed completely unfair to him. He clenched his fists so hard that soon, he felt his hand become wet with the blood that his grasp had done. He wiped it on his jeans as he thought about Dean.

Stubborn, sensitive Dean. Tough Dean, hunter Dean. How could someone like that die? From a car crash of all things? Why couldn't he get out like Sam? Why couldn't he just walk away like Sam had? He wanted to scream out. He wanted to scream out in frustration, in anger. Who was calling the shots? Who was deciding which of his relatives died? He was going to give them a piece of his mind. His mind was completely saturated with anger and grief.

He needed to get out of there.

He took one last glance at his mother's gravestone and then slowly stood up. He didn't turn back as he walked back on the street that separated the cemetery from the general population. He had walked there knowing that the rented house they were staying in was only a few blocks away. He was grateful for that. He didn't want his dad or Sam to bring him. He wanted this to be something that was only him and him only.

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he almost walked past his house. He turned around and walked up the short walkway and through the front door. The house was quiet. The only sounds that could be heard were the sounds of the guns banging on the table as someone cleaned them.

He walked into the kitchen, opened the fridge and grabbed a beer. His Dad let him drink sometimes if he was around and he could hear his deep voice in the living room with Sam. He popped the lid and took a long, satisfying pull from it. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve as he cradled the cold beer can in his hand as he walked into the living room. A large dining table had been set up there and John and Sam were sitting next to each other, the only sounds was that of the guns being reassembled as they finished their cleaning.

"Hey, sport," John said, looking up at the sound of Adam's approach. "Only one," he said, taking note of the beer can in Adam's hand. "Did you just get in?"

Adam nodded silently. "Yeah."

He needed to get away. He needed to get away from this pain, this anger that he felt before he exploded. He made a move toward his bedroom that he was using before the sound of John's voice halted his footsteps. He gritted his teeth, praying for patience-he really wasn't in the mood to do anything for anyone today, he just wanted to be granted the gift of being alone.

"Where are you going?"

"In my bedroom," he said through clenched teeth.

"Are you okay?"

Was he being serious? If he was, he had to be insane. He looked at him with his eyebrows raised. "Do I look okay to you?" He knew that he was crossing a line-the line of respect and disrespect but he didn't really care at that moment.

"Watch your tone with me, Adam."

Adam scoffed, he wasn't sure where this rage was coming from but he couldn't stop it. "Yeah, what_ever _you say, Dad."

Before John could respond, Adam had disappeared up the stairs. He slammed the door, grabbed his headphones and powered up his laptop. He plugged the headphones into the headphone port in the side of the computer. He took deep, soothing breaths as he listened to the music that he put on. Music always calmed him down and this time was no different.

He could feel how heavy his eyelids were, could feel how they felt like giant bricks were on them, forcing them closed. He took the bait and laid his head on his desk, closing his eyes and trying to just focus on the simple act of breathing. He was tired. Whipped. Whatever you wanted to call it.

He wasn't exactly sure when his mind shifted from the jumbled thoughts of his mind to the dreams of his subconscious, but the transition was a smooth, peaceful one.

He was in the old house that he had lived in with Kate before moving to the last one they were in. It was a nice house. A two-story one that had a large basement like the one that his grandmother had, but the most amazing feature of the house was that it had it's own little trail for walking. He wasn't aware that you could feel anything in dreams, but he could feel his throat tightning as he walked the familiar trail through the forest.

He and his mother had walked this path many times in the spring and summer. He remembered how she would be carrying a picnic basket and they would find a nice, shady place and they would sit down in the middle of the trail and eat.

"I forgot how peaceful this place was," Adam almost jumped out of his skin when Kate's voice came from right beside him. He turned around so that he facing her and took in her appearance. She looked like he remembered from the last time he had seen her alive, happy, energized and happy for him that he was getting to spend the weekend with his friend.

"Mom?" He whispered incredulously. What kind of dream was this? He couldn't ever recall being able to talk in his dreams before. He stared at her in simple amazement. "Are you...?" He wondered if she was controlling the dream somehow.

His heart jumped when she nodded her head. "I am, sweetheart."

His mind was whirling with a thousand different questions, such as where did she get the power to control dreams? It made no sense to him, but he was also immensely grateful, no matter the reason for it. He was grateful for this time with her no matter how brief it would be.

"Why?" His voice caught in his throat as he stared at her. He never thought he'd get a chance to talk to her like this again. He was bowled over. Seeing her just served to ignite the pain in his chest as he unconsciously wrapped an arm around himself to keep the pain at bay.

"Because I wanted to talk to you, baby." She reached out and pulled the arm that he had wrapped around himself and moved her way down his arm until she was gripping his hand. "So I'm here," she said like it was no big deal. "Talk. What's been on your mind, Adam?"

He watched her as she sat down cross-legged on the trail. He followed her lead and unconsciously scooted himself closer to her. He laid his head on her shoulder. He could smell it now. The shampoo that she used. It was some citrus-y flavor mixed in with maybe strawberries or some other berry.

"Just..." he didn't know where to start. So much was on his mind that it was a miracle he could still think straight at times. "Why?" He blurted out. "Why you? Why Dean? Why is this happening, Mom? It's not fair!"

He could feel the tears on his face as they descended down his face. It wasn't something that he was proud of, but he felt like a little kid again who cried for his Mom when he was sick. He felt like that again as he stared at her, knowing their reunion was not meant to be forever.

"I don't know, honey. I really don't, and you're right. It's not fair. It's not fair that you had me ripped from you before you were ready, it's not fair that Dean got killed by something so trivial as a car crash. It's not fair, Adam. But it's how life is."

He stared at her in astonishment. "Do you get that infinite wisdom from being up there or something?" He joked weakly.

She shook her head. "I just know from life, honey. Life isn't fair. It never has been and it never will be."

"Can't you come back?"

She shook her head slowly. "You know if I could I would. But I can't. It's not how life is supposed to be. You live, you die. No matter how young or old you are when you go."

"But I need you!"

"Adam, shh, shh," she said soothingly, placing her palm on his face, it was the same thing she would do when she would comfort him as a crying toddler. "I know you do and that's why I'm here now, but you don't need me like you think you do."

"Of course I do, Mom."

She shook her head. "Eventually, I would have had to leave you, anyway."

"Yeah, but this is different."

She nodded. "I know."

"It's just this-" he tapered off, trying to put into words how he had been feeling the past year. It was hard, but he knew that if he could spill his guts to anyone, it would be his mother. "It's just this past year. All the fighting, and the monsters and-" he trailed off.

"I know, and I know how you've been struggling, Adam."

He scoffed. "Yeah, you think?"

She sighed sadly as she ran a finger over his thick blond hair and down his face. He had missed her touch. So soft but so firm at the same time. He missed it more than anything in the world.

"There hasn't been a day that's gone by that I haven't thought about you, missed you, wondered how you are-"

"Well, I've been feeling like crap. Thanks for asking," he said sourly. He was mad. He was sad. He was confused. He was about a thousand other different emotions as he talked to her.

"This has been hard on all of us, Adam. I've been adjusting to. Every time I see you in danger from some stupid hunt your father drags you on, my only thought is to go and rescue you but I can't..."

"How can you be so damn accepting of all this?" Adam demanded. "How can you be so calm about this? If that demon bitch hadn't killed you you would be alive still!"

"I'm not accepting of it, Adam. I never was," she insisted. "But it's better to be okay with this than be something else..." she trailed off, a faraway look in her eyes as she contemplated what she was about to tell Adam.

"What do you mean?"

"I was given a choice. By a reaper," she sounded disbelieving of this. "An actual reaper, if you can believe that. He told me that if I chose to stay-" she gulped. "I would be nothing but a spirit, and eventually and over the decades, I would turn violent and I would be alone and scared. I chose the other route, Adam. Instead of someday hurting you possibly, or other people I love, I chose to go."

Another thing was bugging him. If she had had control over dreams this whole time than why hadn't she come sooner?

"Why haven't you come sooner?"

She sucked in a deep breath as she talked to him. "Because you weren't ready-"

"What are you talking about-"

"Listen to me," she said, fixing him with her scolding, warning look that she often wore when he was being stubborn about something. "You weren't ready, Adam. If you had seen me in any form, you wouldn't have let go. You wouldn't have let go like you should have."

He sounded completely corny with what he was about to say next but he knew it needed to be said. "I'll never let go of you, Mom. Never."

"I know. But you at least needed to let go of me enough to go on with your life and you have. I'm not asking you to forget me or anything, but at least let go of me enough to be happy with your life again. I don't want you to be upset anymore, Adam."

"Have you-" he swallowed. "Have you found Dean?"

She shook her head.

"Oh. Are you happy?"

She nodded and shrugged. "I am, not completely but I'm better than when I first got there."

"Where are you?"

"My heaven."

"Your-"

She smiled and nodded. "My own perfect heaven. Heaven up there is split, Adam. It's not just one big heaven. It's split into sections and one section is reserved for every soul that comes there. I have my own little corner like everyone."

"Is it nice?" He felt his eyes shine with tears as he heard his mother talk about her heaven.

"It is. Guess what?"

"What?"

"I get to see Grandpa and great-grandma. And Cujo." He laughed through the tears. Cujo was their dog that had died from old age a few years ago. He wiped away the tears and smiled, the first smile that he had smiled in a long time.

"Does he still like catching the ball?"

She rolled her eyes. "Adam, that dog has so many balls up there that he can't keep up with them. He and I are having the best time throwing them around. The only thing that's missing is you and your Dad."

He nodded. "Well, it almost came to that more than once."

"I know."

He felt an irrational, overwhelming urge to be closer to her than he was. He threw his arms around her, breathing in her familiar scent. He relaxed against her as he felt her arms encompass him. They felt warmer than they did in life, and that fact only comforted him. He felt her turn her head slightly so she could kiss him on the cheek.

He held onto her with all his might. In life, he knew he would probably be choking her right about now.

"What's that shampoo?"

"Citrus and strawberry. I made it myself."

"I didn't know that."

She nodded. "It used to be a hobby."

He could feel it somewhere deep inside of him that his time with his mother was about to end. This only made him wind his arms tighter around her.

She pulled back from Adam and looked at him with tears in her eyes. "It's time for you to go back, Adam."

"Can't I stay?"

"With me? No, sweetheart. Not yet, anyway."

"When?" He asked urgently.

"I can't control the when, Adam."

"Can you-" he took a deep breath. "Can you visit me again?"

She nodded slowly. "Sometimes. But not all the time. But sometimes."

He could live with that. "Okay," he smiled a little, knowing that this wasn't really goodbye. Not really. He had lost his earthly mother forever, but he would at least get to talk to her sometimes in his dreams.

"Come here," she held out her arms to receive him.

He ran back into her arms and she gave him a last hug. He felt the kiss on his forehead at the same time that he was thrust back into the waking world. His head shot up from its place on his desk, he looked around himself and came face to face with his Dad.

"Dad."

"Are you okay? I've been trying to wake you up but you haven't waken up, was about to call someone..." he joked weakly, but the joke died on his lips as he saw the look on Adam's face. "Look, Sam, ever the fountain of wisdom, told me what's been going on with you-"

"How could Sam know-"

"He told me what the day was. I'm so sorry. I don't have any excuse for not getting it."

Adam shrugged. "I could have reminded you but I just didn't want to talk about it, you know?"

John nodded slowly, understandingly. "I know how you feel, but shutting down and letting your emotions shut down-"

Adam scoffed. He had had enough of bearing his soul and he didn't want to go there again. He sighed as he ran a hand through his hair.

"What do you want me to say, Dad? Huh? You want us to talk about what a wonderful person Mom was? Hmm?"

"Adam-"

"Or talk about how she was a great Mom, she didn't deserve to die the way she did? Want me to get up on your lap so we can cuddle? I already know, Dad. Trust me. I know."

He turned away from John to turn off his computer. He was emotionally exhausted from his reunion with Kate. He just wanted to go to sleep again and not dream. He wanted it to be a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

"Adam..."

"Dad, just stop. Okay? Just stop it."

"I know how you feel-"

"No, you don't. You couldn't possibly."

"Try me."

"You've never had your mother murdered by a demon, you haven't. Okay? It's completely different."

He nodded slowly. "I know, but I know what it's like to lose a parent, and it's not easy. Actually, it's one of the hardest things you can go through, I think."

Adam nodded.

"The pain in my heart its just constricting sometimes."

"I know that pain, trust me."

Adam nodded slowly. He stood up shakily. John put an arm around his shoulders. "It's okay, Adam. Just don't-" he paused. "Just don't shut us out, okay? We know what you're going through."

Adam nodded. "I know."

"Let's go see what kind of trouble Sammy is stirring up."

Adam laughed once. "Okay, sure." He leaned into John as they walked out of his room.

Somehow he knew that things would never be completely okay, but he knew as long as he had his family, he knew that he could be and would be okay, he would survive this period. He knew he would.

He was after all, a Milligan and Winchester and they never gave up.

**(Please review!)**


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